


Small

by SqueeneyTodd



Series: Adjustment [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueeneyTodd/pseuds/SqueeneyTodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She picked the smallest room in their new home, and it suited her needs just fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I'm writing a series of short Toriel drabbles now

She had chosen the smallest room for herself, despite objections from the others. The two brothers needed a room big enough for them to have their own space; Frisk had their own room, of course. And then they needed to keep nice rooms for when Undyne and Alphys came in for a nice visit from the coast (not too far from them, but far enough for the two to have their own place to call home). Asgore had a room as well, as far from hers as she could hope. Everyone found it easier to live in close proximity to one another; the world was different from what she remembered, and most of their little group had never seen the surface in their lifetimes.

The Ruins had been small in comparison to the rest of the Underground; compared to the surface world, the Underground was an anthill. That first sight of the surface-the mountains, the sunset, old, crumbling buildings much like the Ruins themselves-it felt distantly familiar. Had it really been so long since she had seen the sun itself, not just a trickle of light entering from that cavern ceiling?

There was no permanent ceiling over their heads, and the sky itself changed so often; the others were especially excited about this, not knowing what to expect themselves. Toriel had forgotten how absolutely huge the world felt high above the ground, and how small one could feel standing under a never-ending sky.

Her small room fit her needs nicely. Anything not related to cooking could stay on shelves or in her chest of drawers (all things brought up with the help of the skeleton brothers and Undyne who were more than happy to lend their assistance, bless them). The room itself was on the bottom floor, a single window facing the surrounding wood. The trees were thick on her side of the house, with a bit of sky peeping through the leaves just to let her know that it was still there. Just enough cover to hide just how big things had become. Her small room was there in case it became too big-a piece of the Home she left behind.

If there was one big difference between her small room and her room in the Ruins, it was the amount of people who seemed to always end up there. Frisk would come in with a drawing or just to tell her about their day; during this Papyrus would wish to join the conversation, Sans somehow ending up there as well despite never appearing in the doorway. If any of Frisk’s other friends happened to be at the house, this would snowball until it seemed a fire hazard to have so many people in one small room. (Undyne was a very... flamboyant person, but friends of Frisk were of course welcome in their home.) At the very least, it would make one feel quite claustrophobic.

It was her favorite time, hearing the knock on the door, knowing what would happen next. It happened once, again, then again. It became a “thing”, as Sans would call it. Hearing everyone’s experiences with this new world of theirs, her telling them how different and yet how similar the world was since she last saw it. Asgore would add something here or there, not out of a feeble attempt at conversation but out of a mutual nostalgia that only the two of them could understand. And sometimes, on good nights, clear, cool nights, she would join them outside and look at the stars, those stars that changed and yet stayed the same. After all the time spent looking at crystals embedded in rock, it was a dizzying experience for them all. Frisk would end up on someone's shoulders, and that someone would  ultimately end up on Undyne's shoulders. Usually Papyrus, but Toriel felt more at ease if that someone were Alphys or Sans-Frisk had fallen quite enough times in her opinion, and sometimes a mother cannot help but worry.

Even Sans would seem to be more excited than he probably meant to show. Just a little, but it was there, through whatever calm demeanor he had had all throughout the exodus to the surface. As time had passed, he had begun to let himself be just a bit less “cool” about things, going out more, napping less (but just a little-Sans would be Sans). He was the one who came home with a (prank-free) telescope that they could all use to search the skies on those clear, cool nights. He had never talked much about an interest in astronomy (or most anything besides his brother) in those days of sharing jokes through locked doors. But who had much to talk about back in those days?

The world was much more manageable in those nights, surrounded by family under a night sky that felt more concrete than its blue counterpart, like a cavern covered in crystals that moved with time itself. Familiar.

Those nights would end eventually. Toriel would herd them all back inside so they wouldn’t catch a chill; she would tell Frisk what time they should be in bed, knowing with all these friends in one place that it would be another nearly sleepless night of games and excitement before they all tired themselves out by sunrise. That was what weekends were for, she supposed. Days and nights, now those were things she almost completely forgot about other than as abstract concepts based on the time of a clock. Living without the sun and the stars did that to a person.

At some point during the night, when Toriel would give up on actually sleeping and pick up one of her new, not-read-one-hundred-times books, a couple knocks would sound at the door. The book would be put down, and she would answer in the same way she always had.

“Who’s there?”

Her small room was secure, but still there was no true silence through the walls, and it was big enough for what she needed. The Ruins had been secure and quiet and small, and it would remain that way for all time. One of a few small things that would never change.

She hoped this time of knocking at her door was another one of those “things”, and for every time this “thing” happened, she was grateful.


End file.
